Star Shaped Stuff Toy
by Babbling.Rambles
Summary: What happens when a certain stuff toy is privy to the adorable couple's lives. Find out! Faberry! Semi-Crack!Fic!


**A/N: **This might be a little OOC. I just really needed an outlet and I just hoped that Faberry angst might be able to do the trick.

I'm such a douche that I've completely derailed myself from my Achele fic. It's not like I have an excuse, like lack of inspiration because there has bee a lot of that lately. All I can say is that I'm an A-hole for not updating...

This might be a one shot but I'm considering turning this into a series of one-shot drabbles of semi-crack!fics. I still don't know what to do with this fic but I still hope you guys would enjoy reading it..

**A/N: **If I owned this characters, I would SO not have time to write this. But I do own the Star Shaped Stuff Toy..

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><p>I have been a witness to many of their fights. Fights caused by childish and immature acts. Fights caused by jealousy. Fights caused by playful teases and tantrums. From the mundane to the psychotic types. I have witnessed <em><strong>a <strong>__**lot **_of them since I was brought to one tiny brunette's yellow-wallpapered bedroom. The walls matching my gorgeous polyester coating perfectly. Mostly, I've witnessed them when they were both in the room. Sometimes, I've witnessed them during one of their late night text marathons that never failed to produce tear-stained pillows from my mistress. Those were the fights that cemented my disdain for the cheeky and hazel-eyed know-it-all. How dare she provoke tears from such beautiful and compassionate brown orbs?

I know, I know. I shouldn't complain because if it weren't for that ice queen I would never have met the most caring person I've ever had the pleasure of being owned by.

One of their fights happened on a cold October night. It was Sunday. This was the first time that I had to witness a fight from a surprisingly soft bed owned by one Quinn Fabray. I was dropped off by my mistress three days prior to the argument. I didn't want to stay. If I actually had a say in the matter, I would have been well ok with spending my time at our bedroom if my mistress finds it too much to bring me to New York with her. Unfortunately for my part, I can't speak unlike the annoying blonde who insisted that I stay with her while my lovable owner vacationed to the Big Apple with her dads. I instantly missed her when she left. I replayed her last words as much as possible.

"Quinn, I want to remind you how pertinent it is that you take special care of Goldie Streisand in my absence. He can be very temperamental. This became clear for me when I haven't been able to give him the proper amount of attention an owner of one highly…"

She proceeded to whisper the next words to her lover. I couldn't blame her. She knows how sensitive I am to words. I just hated the fact that her words elicited a light laugh from the blonde. How much I wanted to wiper her smile off her face, I cannot express.

"Don't worry Rach, I'll take good care of him. I promise."

Then, they left me in the room.

Is that what you would call as taking care? Huh, Quinn Fabray? You make no effort in making me approve of your relationship with my mistress?

Now where was I?

…

…

…

…

Oh yes, about the fight.

My mistress just called her girlfriend (ex-girlfriend if I had my way) and asked her to pick her up from the airport when she and her dads would arrive next week. Not beating around the bush, Rachel was denied of her simple request. I am sure the blonde had her reasons and I am absolutely sure that they are unacceptable. If I were to judge them myself. I would be more fit to judge Quinn's reasons since I've always had my mistress' best welfare in mind. Unlike her supposed girlfriend.

This continued for the duration of the week where I was forced to sleep on a bed that I could never picture myself ever being comfortable with.

I caught glimpse and pieces of their argument of course but I never paid that much attention. I despise the fact that I can't hear my mistress' side of the story. I was still impartial to this young woman's intention.

Some _"Rach, please understand..."_ here and some _"... you know that if I had my way, I would personally pick you up from the airport."_ there. I don't buy any of them. She still doesn't deserve my dear darling Rachel Berry.

Ok, so I may have soften up a little when I saw her cry trying to explain things. It was nice to know that she cried as well when they fought.

"Come on Rach. You know how fragile my mom is right now. Kicking Dad out of the house finally took its toll on her."

A pause. I know Ms. Rachel Barbra Berry isn't letting her off the hook that easy.

"... Geez, how can you say that you're _just _an option for me. I just can't that day. Can't you please understand that? With dad gone and mom realizing that I'd be graduating in a couple of years, she's grown even more desperate and wary."

Another pause.

"I can't explain everything right now. Just be patient. It'll be better if we talk when you-"

An abrupt pause.

"It's too hard doing it on the phone, you know that be-"

Too bad she doesn't know that my mistress isn't too keen on waiting that long.

"... Just please, understand. You'll know when you get-"

If only I could help Quinn and explain to her that her explanations wouldn't be that sufficient to my mistress. Ms. Rachel Berry is a diva and she cannot be reasoned with.

"What the-? You kiss your dads with that mouth? How can you say that? All I'm asking for is time, and some understanding."

Blasphemy! My mistress stays away from any actions or words that would bring dishonor to her parents. I grew tired from listening to her explanations from that point. I cannot be privy to an argument that I can only be subjected to one side of.

The next couple of days, they neither texted nor attempted any other form of communication.

On my last days of stay here, the ice queen know-it-all turned from sullen to angry. It probably has more to do with the texts she's been receiving from mistress. I can't comment on it though since I haven't read any of them.

A day after my lady's return, the blonde finally decided to visit the Berry's residence. To my distaste, she left me behind. To my even greater distaste, she apparently decided to spend the night.

They patched things up. I know this because the very next morning the irritating and pesky blonde returned to her bedroom with a smile that I feared might have split her face in half.

That's teenagers for you. If only I could, I'd smack each of them on the head for being such a slave to their

unending supply of hormones.

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><p><strong>follow me at twitter username: <strong>kirstynequalsme

**or at **http:/ kirstyn42 .tumblr .com/**  
><strong>

**might post some updates there :D**

In the height of my little sister's twilight obsession, It made me wonder what vampires feel when they're around women having their period. I KNOW! I'm BEING LAME!

Anyhow, please review. I'm desperate to know on what your opinions and comments are about the fic. Any suggestions to better my writing would be appreciated as well..


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